


Silence

by valkysrie



Category: The Society (TV 2019)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Grief/Mourning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-22
Updated: 2019-05-22
Packaged: 2020-03-09 10:12:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 430
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18914863
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/valkysrie/pseuds/valkysrie
Summary: Harry realizes too late that it's always been Cassandra.





	Silence

**Author's Note:**

> So, The Society took a major L not making Cassandra and Harry a thing??? Literally don't know the reason they did that but whatever. This is just sadness bundled into a couple hundred words??

           The news of Cassandra’s death traveled fast throughout the small town. Nobody knew how something like this could happen and everyone was terrifyed to live in their home. Fingers pointed from Harry to Campbell and everything was chaos. He wouldn’t admit it to anyone but he cried that first night and a couple that followed. Losing Cassandra felt like losing the only person in the world who knew his every intention. She was able to see through him but also all of him at the same time. It was overwhelming and scary and Harry loved it. He was pretty sure somewhere amidst the hating and the arguing he fell in love with her as well.

           And he didn’t mean it. If there was one thing in his life he was certain about, it was that he didn’t mean it when he said he wanted Cassandra dead. Sure, they fought and they argued, and he swore she was the most annoying girl he knew, but they had an understanding. One that went beyond friendship in the way that they always knew what the other was thinking. It was annoying and frustrating and it drove Harry crazy but he also loved it. He loved the way Cassandra’s lips turned slightly upwards when she knew she had won the argument. He loved when she pulled her hair back behind her ears when she was embarrassed. Harry was almost certain he loved most things about her. 

           He can see her so clearly in his head when he closes his eyes. Her blonde hair, always perfectly brushed and styled, her bright smile, never wavering, and her eyes. He _loved the_ stories she’d tell with her eyes. They were hopeful and beautiful and everything good in the world was hiding behind them.

           Harry cried and he didn’t stop. Every morning, just before everyone else woke up, he’d visit her grave. He’d tell her easy things like how he hated her for leaving him, how he wished she wouldn’t have been so stubborn as to refuse his help with the after prom mess when he had offered. He yelled at her grave for hours one way, until his throat could barely open, only the tiniest of breaths escaping. He later grew enough courage to tell her the harder things. He told her how he loved her, how he was sorry that he chose to hate her instead. He told her everything he ever wanted and more. He told her how when she died, most of him did too. 

           He loved her and she’d never know. Nobody would.


End file.
